Bringing Home Sam
by BeatrixKiddo2011
Summary: Rated M for language. Reviews welcomed:  Thanks for reading!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Honey, I'm home." Andy McNally stepped across the threshold of her small efficiency apartment. Her cat Banjo, the apartment's only other occupant, stepped out from around the corner to greet her. She bent down and picked up her jerky cat, kicking the door closed with her foot before walking in to the kitchen.

It had been a long day and Andy was exceedingly glad to be home. She gave Banjo a kiss on the head and then put him down on the kitchen floor. After filling his bowl with food she opened up the refrigerator and grabbed an ice-cold beer.

Sam had once told her to be careful about "putting on the uniform to get away from life - that it makes it harder and harder to take it off". He was right.

It had been three months since Sam had left for God-knows-where on his UC operation. His absence left a gaping hole in her heart and she filled it the only way she knew how…work, work and more work.

Today had been especially rough; Andy and Chris' first call of the morning was out at Grange Park. A concerned citizen reported a man dumping trash in the wooded area bordering Beverley Street. That "trash" ended up being the man's seven year old son.

Andy opened her beer and took a big chug, trying to block the image of the child's beaten and broken body from her mind. She walked over to the couch and sat down, placing her half-empty beer bottle on the coffee table in front of her.

_How could a father do such a things to his own son? Heck, how the hell could any human being do that to another human being, regardless of relation? _Andy kept juggling these questions around in her mind, unable to come up with any answer that gave her peace. She knew that she needed to let it go, but that was easier said than done, especially with a child involved.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door which caused Andy to jump. "What the heck!" she yelled reflexively; she was definitely in no mood for visitors. She reluctantly got up and walked over to the door.

"Who is it?" She spit out, unable to temper the annoyance in her voice.

"McNally" the voice on the other side of the door responded in a clipped tone, "it's Detective Boyd. Please let me in."

"Detective Boyd?" Andy said incredulously. She'd sooner expect a visit from Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny than Detective Donovan Boyd!

"Yes McNally, it's Boyd. Open the damn door." He paused a moment before adding an obligatory "please" to the end of his request.

She opened the door to find Detective Boyd leaning against the doorway with his eyes fixed towards the street as though he were looking for – or rather looking out – for someone or something. He stepped inside hastily without waiting for invitation.

"Oh, do please come in Detective" Andy said sarcastically, shutting the door behind them. Boyd made no response but turned back towards the door and locked it before proceeding to the couch and taking a seat. He picked up Andy's beer and downed the rest is a single swig before finally looking over in Andy's direction.

Andy was preparing to lay into Boyd for being such a rude ass, but stopped short when she caught sight of the expression on his face. Something was wrong…_seriously wrong_.

Andy walked over to the small arm-chair positioned adjacent to the couch and took a seat. "What the hell is going on Boyd? Why are you here?"

"McNally, I need your help."

She heard the words, but couldn't make sense of them. Was this some sort of joke? Maybe she had fallen asleep and this was a dream?

"Excuse me?" she asked. "You need _my _help? Does this have anything to do with Sam? Is Sam okay?" her voice becoming more and more panicked with each question.

"Settle down McNally. Sam is okay. But the situation has become…more complicated…we need to send in backup before things go south." Boyd said. "I wouldn't be coming to you if I didn't think that it was absolutely necessary."

Andy was at a loss for words. _More complicated?_ What's that suppose to mean?

"Does Best know you're here?"

"No, not yet." Boyd stood up and started pacing nervously. "But my boss should be calling him any time now to fill him in on the situation."

"Will you please fill_ me _in on the situation? You're driving me crazy! What's this all about?" Andy was quickly losing patience with Boyd erratic behavior.

He stopped pacing and stood directly in front of Andy, pulling an iPhone out of his front jacket pocket. He tapped the screen and after a moment passed the phone to her; on the screen was a photo of Sam with another man dark-haired man, standing beside a black 4-door sedan.

Boyd pointed to the photo on the phone and said, "That was taken three days ago outside the Sky Dragon Chinese Restaurant on the corner of Spadina and Dundas." He used his index finger to swipe the screen, moving on to a second photo taken the same day. "The man in the photo with Sam is Jacob Westcott. Do you know the name?"

Andy nodded her head in the affirmative. Jacob Westcott was a big-time money launder with ties to just about every organized gang in North America.

"I thought he went legit?" She asked.

"Yeah, well…he did, for awhile." Boyd held out his hand to take the phone back from Andy, then after a couple seconds he handed it back with a new photo displayed.

The image in front of her was truly disturbing. It showed a woman and three children lying dead on the floor. There was a tremendous amount of blood everywhere. From what she could tell, the children were likely killed execution-style with a single bullet to the forehead. The woman…her death was not so quick. Judging by the extensive bruising to her face, wrists and ankles, she was likely tied up and tortured. Her clothes where badly ripped and she had deep lacerations on her arms, hands and torso.

Andy looked away from the picture and up at Boyd, not yet able to make sense of the situation.

"That was Jacob Westcott's family. They were killed eight months ago."

"Oh" was the only response Andy could make.

"After that, Westcott fell off the grid. There was a lot of chatter on the street that he was back in the game, so a joint task force with US authorities was created to start monitoring Westcott's activities. We suspected that Westcott was up to something big but he's always been real good at covering his tracks. Eventually a decision was make to send in a UC officer to get close to Westcott and gather the necessary intel to take him down. That's were Sam came in."

"Any idea who killed his family?"

"We think that it was Russell Bride." Boyd snatched back his phone and pulled up another photo; this one was a mug shot of Bride.

"Russell Bride was the CEO of TempCorp, one of the many companies used by Westcott back in the day to launder money. Westcott was actually well known in the community as both an excellent business man and generous philanthropist. All of his businesses did well in their own right. He'd have a small group of senior executives within each company who were in on his dirty dealing, but otherwise the operations were completely legitimate. Bride on the other hand was careless and greedy. He decided that he wanted a bigger piece of the pie - started making side-deals and such. Then one day, an anonymous tip was called in to a police precinct out in Mississauga. The caller provided the street address of a residential home out in Rattray Park Estates; coppers head out to find the home completely empty except for a briefcase sitting in one of bedroom closets. The briefcase contained copies of financial documents, emails, letter and photos that were eventually used to convict Bride of money laundering and racketeering. He was sentenced to twenty years but was released after serving only seven when his conviction was overturned. That was nine months ago."

"Overturned?"

"Yes. Judiciary misconduct. The judge had owned stock in TempCorp and lost a significant amount of money when the scandal went public - he should have recused himself from the case."

"So you're saying that Westcott was the one who ratted Bride out, and then Bride retaliated by killing Westcott's entire family?"

"Yes, that's what we think."

"So what's Westcott's end-game now? Revenge?"

"That's certainly part of it." Boyd suddenly looked very exhausted. He walked back over to the couch and sat down. After about two full minutes of silence, Boyd continued. "Westcott doesn't appear content to simply take his revenge on Bride. We think that he's targeting the crime syndicates that he had dealings with in the past….looking to turn them on each other to start some sort of damn gang apocalypse. We definitely didn't see that coming."

"What makes you say that?"

"Sam. He's gotten in pretty tight with Westcott. Westcott has started to confide in Sam…started getting him _involved_."

The thought of Sam mixed up in this convoluted mess make Andy feel physically ill.

"The more Westcott brings Sam out into the open, the more likely he is to be made. We've already had a couple close calls. Besides that, if Westcott's plan actually works, it's going to be impossible to keep Sam out of harm's way."

"Why is Westcott doing this? I mean, I understand why he'd go after Bride, but why start a gang war."

"Best guess…he's creating a diversion." Boyd could tell by the look on Andy's face that she didn't understand. "Westcott is well-connected and well-trusted amongst the various crime families and gangs he's affiliated with. Let's say a full-scale gang war breaks out…who's really going to be worried about Westcott? No one, because they'd never suspect that he'd cross them. And once the dust settles…what if he turns up missing, along with millions of their dollars? The murder of Westcott's family was well publicized; they're likely to assume that Bride got to him and finished what he started. By the time they realized what really happened…_if_ they ever realize what really happened…one or more of the gangs would have hunted Bride down to try to get back their money. Bride would be dead and Westcott would be long gone. Westcott gets his revenge _and _the money. He gets himself a new life somewhere never to be heard from again."

"You don't have enough to take him down now?"

"Unfortunately not. Sam has uncovered plenty of evidence that Westcott has resumed his money laundering operation, but nothing that ties back directly to Westcott."

Andy was trying very hard to process all of this information. She knew for sure that Boyd was hiding something important. It was clear based on his demeanor that he was personally involved with this case in some way. There were many more questions that she wanted to ask but at that moment, there was only one question that she needed answered. "Boyd…why me?"

Boyd gave her a weak smile and said, "Because Sam trusts you more than anyone else in the world…and I trust Sam. Besides, this isn't going to be easy and I know that you'd stop at nothing to bring Sammy home safe."

He was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Rookie Blue (forgot the disclaimer on Chapter 1, but I didn't own it then either!) _

**Chapter 2**

_- Three months ago -_

"Okay, here's your new life line. Remember the drill, yeah?" Boyd asked, handing Sam a small disposable cell phone. "No contact with anyone except for me and my team from now on."

"Yeah, I got it." Sam responded.

"I'm going to send someone over to your place to take care of it…aaaaand you're all set. Sorry for the short notice, but we had to move on this thing tonight."

"It's not like I had any big plans." Sam said, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt.

Boyd turned the ignition and pulled away from the curb.

"So, guess you better fill me in on the details, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah…sorry buddy, I really am. It was now or never." Boyd responded, pulling a medium sized envelope from behind the overhead sun visor and tossing it over to Sam.

Sam opened the envelope the reached inside, pulling out a driver's license, birth certificate and NEXUS membership card. He switched on the overhead light so that he could read the name on the driver's license - Andrew Campbell.

_Andrew? Andy?_ _This was got to be Boyd's idea of a joke! _Sam thought to himself.

Sam turned off the overhead light and tucked the identification cards into his inside coat pocket. "Seriously Boyd, I was really counting on those three weeks to get things in order" _And to say goodbye to Andy_, Sam amended inwardly. "What's the rush?"

"There was a major scuffle at The Tap Room last night – several people seriously hurt, one critically. Westcott's looking for some additional security. Our guy on the inside, Simon, was able to hook you up with a job as a bouncer."

"Wonderful." Sam responded sarcastically. The Tap Room was one of two strip clubs owned and operated by Jacob Westcott in the downtown Toronto area. Despite its up-scale façade, it was notorious for being a hang-out for every low-life drug dealer and gang-banger in the city.

Boyd chuckled "Oh, come on Sammy - it'll get you closer to Westcott from day one - no working your way up the ranks, gotta be happy about that. Hopefully we can wrap this investigation up within two months or so….you'll be home before you know it. And in the meantime…enjoy the scenery" Boyd gave Sam an exaggerated wink.

Sam flashed a humorless smile. Boyd cleared his throat and then continued, "Okay, seriously. From the beginning - you're name is Andrew Campbell. You're from Ottawa originally, but spent most of your life in Mississauga. Comment est votre français?" _(How is your French?)_

"Mieux que le votre, j'en suis sûr." _(Better than yours, I'm sure.)_ Sam responded in perfectly accented French.

"Whatever you say", Boyd joked. "You spent ten years working for Russell McKay out at McKay Shipping Company in North Bay. Eventually you discovered he was running guns out of the warehouse, but being the loyal employee you were you kept your head down and your mouth shut up 'till the end."

Sam shot Boyd a puzzled look. He vaguely remembered this case; if he remembered correctly, McKay was taken down back in late 2003. "The end?" he asked.

"Yeah, coppers raided the place in November 2003. McKay was shot and killed in the resulting shoot-out. Law enforcement wanted to make an example out of Campbell, but none of the worst charges would stick; ended up spending a nickel out at Maplehurst for a collection of lesser charges."

"Wait a minute, this is a real case - is there a_ real_ Andrew Campbell?" Sam didn't like the sound of this. Way to risky.

"Yeah, Campbell is real. He was released back in 2008." Boyd paused a moment, clearly choosing his next words carefully. "He's been inactive since."

"Inactive? Come on Boyd, what if someone on the street knows Campbell? Do we have any idea where he is? What if he shows up around town? Are you tried to get me killed brother?" Sam was actually feeling a little frazzled.

Boyd was obviously uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. He sat up straight and gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands as if driving suddenly required his undivided attention. After a long, uncomfortable pause he responded, "Campbell has been taken care of. I really wish I could tell you more, but I can't."

"You're serious?" Sam asked in complete disbelief.

"Sorry," was Boyd's only response.

They continued on in silence until Boyd made an abrupt stop alongside a massive church at the corner of Carr and Denison. The sign read _Russian Ukrainian Church of Evangelical Christians_ is ornate gold lettering.

Boyd turned off the SUV and shifted in his seat so that he was facing Sam. "Look Sammy, I know you didn't want to take this case in the first place but I'm glad you did. I owe you one."

"Yeah Boyd, ya do." Sam said without turning in Boyd's direction.

"Westcott is very smart, and very unpredictable. Get close to him but _be careful_. Try to find something that _directly _links him to his money laundering operation. If we can get him on this, we can also take down many of his know clients and associates. We_ need _this."

Sam turned to face Boyd. He suspected that there was more to this story - he knew that there was something that Boyd was holding back. He just hoped it wasn't anything that was going to come back and bite him in the ass.

"Head North on Denison and you'll see the Grange Hotel. You're all set up in room 602." Boyd handed Sam a room key. "There are seven units on the sixth floor, including yours…all the others are vacant and will remain so for the duration of this operation."

"What about cameras and audio?" Sam asked.

"Full interior coverage…except for the bathroom that is. Also have one camera in the hall; no sound."

"When and where will I meet Westcott?"

"Head over to the Sky Dragon Chinese Restaurant on Spandina Avenue at midnight. You'll meet a man named Simon; he'll take you to meet Westcott."

Boyd extended his hand to Sam and the two men shook. "Good luck Sam…err, I mean Andrew. Or, do you prefer Andy?" _Yep, definitely Boyd's idea of a joke._ Sam thought.

"Screw you Boyd."

_- Present Day -_

Sam regretted ever agreeing to this damn assignment. It had been more physically and emotionally draining than he could have ever imagined.

On the plus side, he'd been afforded an opportunity to earn Westcott's trust almost immediately. Unfortunately, the incident involved a would-be attacker and a 5" blade. He'd been accepted into Westcott's "inner circle" after that and the information he'd gathered was substantial.

Gun running, drug dealing…even human trafficking and prostitution…you name it, Westcott was into it. More importantly - Sam could_ prove_ it. But no matter what he said, Boyd wouldn't make a move. "Just hang in there a little longer Sammy" Boyd had said. "He's good for the money laundering too, I know he is…we've gotten get him for that if we hope to take down his entire network."

Sam couldn't understand it…it simply didn't make any sense.

Then things went from bad to worse. Three weeks ago Westcott had insisted that Sam move into the loft above The Tap Room. No cameras. No wire taps. Sam thought for sure that Boyd would take action and get him the hell out of there. No luck. "Roll with it Sam." Boyd had said, "This isn't a big deal. We'll keep tabs on you through the GPS tracker in your phone. Any doubt that Boyd had some hidden agenda had long been erased.

Today was Sam's scheduled check-in day, and marked three months on assignment. Sam had made the call from the pay-phone on the street adjacent to Boyd's house, leaving him cell - and therefore his GPS tracker - back at his place above the club.

"Hello?" Boyd answered hesitantly, not recognizing the phone displayed on caller ID.

"It's Sam."

"Where you calling me from buddy? I don't recognize the number."

"Pay-phone outside the club."

"Oh….okay." Sam could hear the soft clicking of a computer keyboard in the background; he figured Boyd was confirming his location with the tracking software. "Tell me you got something for me, please Sammy?"

"Sure I do…same as I had last month and the month before that. Boyd, this is getting way too dangerous. Time is up…I want out NOW, otherwise I'm giving Best a call…"

Boyd cut him off, "wait just a minute Swarek, there's no need for ultimatums." There was an edge to Boyd's voice that Sam wasn't accustomed to hearing. And something else…panic, maybe? "Okay, here's what's going to happen." Boyd said after a long pause. "I've got an inside contact. Her name is Sasha McKay. She…"

"Wait a minute, McKay…as in Russell McKay?" Sam interrupted.

"Yes. She was Russell's only child. She knew the real Andrew Campbell…intimately. We've got her in protective custody at the moment. I'm sending her to you - she'll be at the club tomorrow. She'll know what to do."

"Wait, but…"

"Sorry Sammy, I've gotta go if I'm going to make this happen on such short notice." Just then, Sam saw Boyd exit his building and start walking down the street.

"But, why send her? She's obviously going to know I'm not Campbell. What angle are you working here…you've got what you need to take Westcott down, why don't you just do it!"

"See you soon", Boyd said and abruptly hung up.

_Sooner than you think asshole. _Sam hung up the phone and followed after Boyd at a safe distance. _Where the hell was he doing?_

Boyd walked four blocks South and then turned left onto Sam's street..the one where the "real Sam" lived. Seeing it made his heart ache for home…ache for "normal"…ache for Andy. He didn't know how she was, if she was safe. Hell, he didn't even know where she lived!

Much to Sam's surprise, Boyd didn't walk into Sam's building as he had expected but rather the one directly across the street. Sam had been inside one of the units once - nice little efficiency apartments. Sam watched as Boyd knocked on the door and a few minutes later, was let in.

Sam walked past the window careful not to draw attention and saw Boyd sit on the couch and grab a beer off the coffee table. _Who lived here? Sasha? Why would Boyd put her up in a safe-house here? _He couldn't see who else was in the apartment.

After an hour, Sam left to head back to The Tap Room…he didn't want his absence to catch Westcott's notice. He had more questions than answers but felt optimism for the first time in months that back-up was on its way.


End file.
